


Hereafter

by Dak



Category: The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Prison Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 17:09:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1656071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dak/pseuds/Dak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three months after Gwen’s death, Peter goes to Ravencroft to visit his former friend</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hereafter

The New York sky was bleak and desolate, grey clouds hung in the sky, blotting out the light of the sun. A sleek, compact ship was sailing across the river’s choppy waters, ferrying the handful of people that had loved ones or friends incarcerated within Ravencroft Institute for the Criminally Insane.

The vessel slid up next to the small dock on the island prison and a sturdy gangplank extended from the hatchway. One at a time, the few passengers disembarked a greying old man, a middle-aged man, a young mother and her daughter, and finally, a tall, well-built young man with ruffled brown hair. 

The young man gazed at the forbidding stone facility that housed many criminals, several of whom he had defeated personally. Peter Parker hitched his black backpack higher up on his shoulder and walked down the gangplank with an easy grace, heading for the main gates of Ravencroft.

Peter and the other visitors were escorted through the gates by uniformed security staff, and were taken into a pristine reception area that had a faint scent of antiseptic. The other visitors had clearly been there before, and took seats on the reception area’s hard metal chairs. Shrugging his shoulders to alleviate some of his nervousness, Peter walked up to the reception desk where a middle-aged woman sat, her weary expression suggesting she had been here for many years.

“Hi,” he began, “Um, my name is Peter Parker, I’m here to see a friend of mine, Harry Osborn?”

The woman gave him a brief once-over and returned her gaze to her computer screen. Nodding at the screen, she looked back at him.

“Ok, you’re on the schedule. Please present me with two pieces of ID and I’ll issue you a visitor’s pass.”

Peter fumbled in the back pocket of his dark blue jeans for his wallet and dug his driver’s licence (which he never used, but Aunt May had insisted he get one) and his Social Security Card (which he’d memorized years ago). He slapped the cards on the counter and the receptionist quickly took them, handing him a plastic card that read VISITOR in bold red letters.

A dark-skinned security guard came out of the door beside the reception desk and the reception spoke up, still not looking at him.

“Mark will take you through security check and beyond. Have a nice day.”

“I hope you have an awesome day too,” Peter said, barely concealing his smirk as the burly guard led him out of reception and into the main complex.

Glancing up at the tall stone walls with mild interest, Peter followed the guard through a pair of heavy metal doors and into a room with a security scanner. After leaving his backpack (he’d left his costume at home), wallet, phone and keys with the guards, Peter was escorted to a Spartan meeting room.

“You have thirty minutes,” the guard said flatly, “the patient is classified as a level 3 Threat, and restraints are not necessary.” 

He looked Peter in the eye, “Everything that happens in this room is being monitored.” He extended a long finger and pointed at a small red button set into the table, “If you feel that you are in danger, press that button and security staff will be in here in seconds.”

Having said everything he was required to, the guard withdrew, closing the door behind him with a solid clang. 

Sighing in nervousness, Peter collapsed into one of the chairs. Like the table, they were metal and bolted to the floor, and considerably uncomfortable to sit in.

Glancing around the bare room, Peter scrubbed a hand through his hair and tried to ignore the nervous feeling in his belly. He hadn’t seen Harry since that horrible night. He still remembered the events like they were yesterday. Harry’s handsome face twisted into a mask of rage, Gwen’s final shriek of pain, her limp body held in his arms like a broken doll, beautiful even in death.

Rage began to bubble up in him as he remembered what Harry had done, what Peter was responsible for and his fist slammed into the table, leaving a major dent in the metal.

Rising to his feet, Peter began to pace the room, his whole body shaking with anger. Why was he even here? Why had he come to see a man that had betrayed him so deeply, had killed his girlfriend?

Because Harry wasn’t himself. 

The thought stopped Peter cold like a bucket of icy water. He hadn’t helped Harry and that had started his friend’s mad descent into darkness. 

At that moment, the other door opened and Harry walked in. His friend looked mostly normal, clad in an orange prison jumpsuit with several scars scattered across his face (a sign of the disease that was mostly purged from his system), Harry looked mostly normal.

A smirk crossed his one-time friend’s face and he casually walked over to Peter.

“Come to see the freak, Peter?” he asked, bitterness and amusement mixed in his voice. 

Peter had to restrain himself from taking a swing at his former friend, and settled for pinning Harry with an angry glare.

Chuckling at his own joke, Harry threw himself into the other chair, “Why are you here, Peter?”

For a moment, Peter couldn’t find his voice and just stared at Harry. Prison had changed the Osborn heir, and his slim form had filled out a bit, the outline of muscles visible beneath his orange uniform. 

Harry smirked again, “See something you like, buddy?”

Peter blushed and turned his gaze away.

“I-I came to see how you were doing.”

An exact repetition of the words he’d said when he’d gone to see Harry after eight years of separation.

Harry snorted, “I’m still sick and locked in a cage 24/7, Peter. How do you think I’m doing?”

Peter looked back at him, “You deserve this,” he said flatly, “You killed Gwen.”

Harry laughed out loud, “Aww is Peter missing his little girlfriend?”

Peter clenched his fist and had to fight the urge not to punch the other man in the face.

“I’ll bet your balls are blue after being single for three months,” Harry added.

Peter’s temper snapped and he reached out with blinding speed and slammed his erstwhile friend back against the chair. 

“Go to hell, Osborne,” he hissed, “You’re a motherfucking bastard.” His grip tightened on the young man’s neck, “I should kill you right now, for what you did to her.”

Harry just kept grinning, even with Peter’s unyielding fingers on his throat, and then he reached down and grasped his assailant’s crotch. 

Peter froze in place, fingers still on Harry’s throat as the other man grasped Peter’s budding erection through his jeans and stroked him skillfully. Peter’s breath came in short gasps and his grip loosened on Harry’s throat. He staggered backwards, trying to get away from his old friend, but Harry quickly stepped around the table and continued to fondle Peter gently, a very satisfied smirk on his face.

“No…stop,” Peter protested, but Harry deftly undid his fly and gently pulled his erect member out of his jeans. Stroking it a couple more times, Harry then quickly sank to his knees and began to take his enemy’s impressive length into his mouth.

Peter had to brace himself against the chair as Harry went down on him, sucking his cock like an expert. Waves of pleasure were rushing through his body and then Harry did something with his tongue that made Peter buck his hips in ecstasy. 

Harry’s dark red lips continued to suck and Peter felt himself coming to a climax (no pun intended). He hadn’t been with anyone since Gwen died; in fact he wasn’t sure if he’d be with anyone ever again, his heart felt so shattered.

Then Harry circled Peter’s cock with his tongue again and Peter forgot about his grief and lost himself in the heady feeling arousal that was enveloping him. Harry sucked one last time and Peter felt his arousal reach a climax and he came, shooting hot cum into Harry’s mouth. 

His friend (when had he started thinking of Harry as a friend again?) continued to wrap his lips around Peter’s cock, swallowing every drop of cum greedily.

As Harry carefully removed Peter’s spent member from his mouth, the young man collapsed on the hard metal chair, his eyes half-closed in contentment

Harry wiped his mouth casually and slowly got to his feet, leaning against the table.

After a moment, Peter opened his eyes and stared at his friend, “What the hell, Harry?”

Harry gave him a sad look, filled with regret and remorse, “I-I’m sorry, Peter.”

When Peter just stared at him in confusion, he elaborated, “I’m sorry I killed your girlfriend. I just wanted to make it up to you.” He shrugged, “This doesn’t really make much of a difference, but I wanted to do something.”

Peter was still speechless, and Harry shook his head, “I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he said sadly, and turned to leave the room.

“Wait!” Peter called, “Wait, please don’t leave!”

Harry paused by the door and turned slowly to face his friend again.

“I’m just as responsible for Gwen as you,” he blurted out, “I should have stayed away from her, but I didn’t, and that’s why she was in danger.”

He swallowed, “I-I don’t know if I can forgive you just yet, but I’ll try.” He stood and crossed the room to face Harry, “I know you weren’t yourself, and…you’re still my friend.”

Hope and remorse mixed on Harry’s face and he abruptly embraced his friend, sobbing into Peter’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Peter,” he sobbed, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do it, I didn’t want any of this.”

Peter hugged his friend back and held him for a long moment. 

“It’s gonna be ok,” he said quietly, “It’ll be ok, Harry.”

A buzzer suddenly rang out and both doors opened, security guards entering the room.

“Your time is up,” one of them said and grabbed Harry by the arms, pulling him away from Peter. Harry didn’t resist and instead gave Peter one last look, “Thanks, buddy,” he said, “You were always my friend, I screwed everything up on my own.”

He let the guard drag him out of the room, leaving Peter standing there, mixed emotions on his face.

The other guard tapped Peter on the shoulder, “It’s time to leave now, sir.”

Peter nodded after a moment, “Yeah, ok, I’m leaving.”

After he collected his belongings and left the building, Peter looked up at the sky. The dark clouds had been blown away and the clear blue afternoon sky was lit by the brilliant rays of the sun. As he headed towards the ferry, Peter felt a sensation of hope that he hadn’t felt since before Gwen had died.

Everything was going to be ok, for both him and Harry. He just had to have hope.


End file.
